Living Aint Easy
by erikarspam
Summary: Lyra is rescued by the group and joins them. My first fanfic attempt. Very AU, takes place after the group has left the farm. Making it up as I go along and would love some feedback.
1. Chapter 1

Lyra made peace with herself- closing her eyes and taking a few last calming breaths as she waited for _them_ to get her. She couldn't move anymore- she was too damn exhausted. She briefly wondered if she should pray, honestly wishing she believed in some sort of God so she would feel better about giving up like this. The sounds of the growling, moaning, gasping and trampling were catching up to her and she mused how it would feel to become their next meal. Would there be enough of her to become one of them or would she be destroyed? Nihility at its finest.

Her morbid thoughts were suddenly broken by several gun shots in rapid succession. Lyra barely knew what the noise was and then she felt warm breath on her face and her eyes shot open- Zombies didn't have warm breath. Who the Fuck was this?

"Come on, get up…" An Asian boy was nearly pulling her onto her feet with strength she probably wouldn't have thought he possessed from looking at him, and Lyra tried to stand, but couldn't put her weight on one of her legs and cried out. She was having a sort of sensory overload. Moments ago she had been ready to die, and now there were people around her. Alive. Saving her. This was happening too fast; even her adrenaline was having a hard time kicking in again.

Dropping to a knee involuntarily, Lyra was speechless, unable to quite comprehend the sudden turn of events and eyes streaming from the pain that shot through her leg. "Fuck, move Glenn!" Came another voice, much more gruff than Glenn's and within moments, the young woman had been picked up and thrown over the shoulder of the man that... was not Glenn. Like a rag doll, she felt a strong arm wrapped around her waist, gripping her so tight she was sure she wouldn't fall.

And like a damsel in distress, Lyra passed out. In the future, it would be a detail that embarrassed her most, and something she would vehemently deny.


	2. Chapter 2

"If she can't walk, she can't come with us. We're only as strong as our weakest link."

Lyra opened her eyes slowly. They felt itchy and dry, which prompted her to close them again and simply lay there for a while longer. She wasn't sure what exactly woke her, but she wished she could fall back asleep.

"You would seriously just leave her here?"

That was the Asian boy's voice….Glenn. Lyra opened her eyes once again, forcing them to stay open as she took in her surroundings. Nothing but blue sky, some trees off to her periphery and a few barely visible, stringy clouds. The group didn't seem to notice that she'd come to and continued to argue. It wasn't until she made an attempt to sit up that the voices abruptly stopped and Lyra looked up to see four pairs of eyes focused on her.

"Oh, don't stop on my account." Lyra managed to choke out, voice raspy and low. She was suddenly very aware of how odd it was to be speaking to other people. After the first few weeks of being alone, she'd started to talk to herself on occasion, but mostly just kept quiet. She learned early on that noise brought the Zombies.

The one female in the group stood up and walked toward her, bending over to hand her a bottle of water. "Drink it slow or you'll get sick." She said, grim faced. Lyra took the water with a murmured thank you and took a long drink. She could feel the water hit her stomach and sit there like a log. To say it felt good was the understatement of the century.

After a few moments Lyra attempted to move but the sharp stabbing pain in her left leg grounded her immediately. She let out the smallest groan and her eyes widened in pain and as if the point of the one who had originally woken up her up was proven, the tallest man in the group raised his hands and let them drop to his sides audibly before he turned and walked away in a huff. Lyra watched his retreating back and shifted uncomfortably, about to open her mouth to speak when the blonde woman shushed her. "Don't mind him; we're not going to leave you."

By nightfall, Lyra had migrated from her makeshift bed to a log by the small fire that had been built. She'd learned the names of her saviors. There was Glenn, Andrea….Daryl had been the one who'd picked her up and carried her, and Shane was the one that obviously didn't want her there. Lyra stared at them in turn, admitting early on she never thought she'd see anyone else ever again. She gratefully accepted food and more water when it was offered and ate greedily, not worried about how she looked and not asking what exactly it was she was eating despite the fact it tasted unlike anything she'd ever eaten before.

She wondered what she would do if they left her, and felt a pang in her stomach at the thought: They'd saved her. If it hadn't been for them, she would be blissfully unaware- either dead or undead, but unaware. So…it was their responsibility, right? Lyra sat there watching each of her saviors in turn, wanting to know each of their stories and wondering if she looked as disgusting as they did. It was hard to keep clean after the end of the world- she was pretty sure she'd kill for a warm shower.

"How'd ya get on that street today?" She'd known the question was going to come up and nodded slowly towards Daryl, who had asked it. She wasn't sure if his voice was always so accusatory or if she'd managed to piss him off in the few hours they'd known each other.

"I'm lucky as hell." Lyra replied


	3. Chapter 3

((So, I'm not going to lie….I was super excited to see that people are reading this. Thank you so much. I have some ideas forming, so I'm stoked to write more. ))

_**(Before)**_

This was it- the end of days, just like all the crazy, religious fanatics had long predicted. Well, not on the day they had said.

Lyra watched the television in her hotel room quietly. She sat on the very edge of her bed with her hands over her mouth, disbelief etched on her face as the events around the world were reported with no filter. She found it ironic that it took the end of the world to get real news coverage. There was no more placating the masses by covering up the real goings on with beauty tips and fun interviews. She watched a group of these ….things were taken down by a group of soldiers before the hard cut back to the reporter, who ordered monotonously that everyone should stay indoors and wait for further instruction.

She got up from her bed and walked towards the window of her room. She was on the third floor, and could see the tail end of a group of Military vehicles driving into the heart of the city, where she was supposed to be today if her internet booking site hadn't messed up her flight plus hotel deal. Instead, she'd been stuck in this little shit hole on the outskirts of the city. She was still trying to figure out if she'd been lucky or not. The constant black, billowing smoke terrified her.

Lyra sat back down and continued watching the TV, trying to keep as calm as possible- her eyes swam with tears until her temples began to pound. Everything was going to be ok…there would be refugee camps set up in no time; there would be a cure. The reporter said stay put, and stay put she would. Everything would be fine- she was connected to the outside world through this news station, the internet still worked.

Her sleep was interrupted with dreams of the Zombies that she'd seen on TV and after tossing and turning for a few hours, she finally gave up all together and straightened up in the bed, swinging her legs over the side and getting up to peer outside the windows. It nearly looked normal outside. Lights were still shining through millions of windows throughout the city. Whatever fire had started earlier in the day was out and the smoke cloud had dissipated and as far as she could hear, it was silent.

Lyra took a shower, not knowing this would be the last one she would have for a long time. It was relaxing and took her mind of the outside world if only for a few moments. Her thoughts wandered as the hot water pounded at her back. She realized that for the first time in her life, she was glad she didn't have family to worry over. It was her and her alone.

She flipped on the television as she walked out of the bathroom and pulled some clothes on as she watched the latest news. This new reporter- Stacy Evans- was giving tips for survival. Lyra found herself watching with rapt attention, wondering what she was going to do. Perhaps she should take notes or something?

Too late…The TV shut off by itself and moments later the lights flipped off as well. In her periphery, Lyra could see the lights of the city quickly flickering off in a wave and the only light came from a gigantic explosion that drew her full attention.


	4. Chapter 4

"Seems to be getting better." Andrea was surveying Lyra's left ankle the next morning. Lyra nodded and sniffed. Allergies were a bitch and she had long ago run out of medicine to keep them in check. Looking at her swollen leg, she pushed through the pain and managed to wiggle her toes, her nose scrunched up.

"I'm fine." She replied stubbornly, more than understanding that this small group didn't want to stay here- particularly Shane, who had already caused a ruckus this morning and stormed off into the tree line. "I'm sure I can walk on it."

"When it's the size of a grapefruit still?" Andrea gave her a pointed look and shrugged, "I don't know."

But Lyra didn't see herself having much of a choice, and when Andrea disappeared after Shane a few minutes later the young woman pulled her sock up, her pant leg down and slipped her shoe tenderly onto her foot before trying to stand up- which turned out to be the easiest part. Within a minute, she was up all by herself, her weight placed fully on her right foot. Her attempt to take a step did not work and the young woman was barely able to catch herself from falling face first. She jumped around as she tried to regain her sense of balance, cursing under her breath.

"Hey Hoppy," Came the slow southern drawl from a few yards away. Lyra- very pink in the face- looked around at Daryl, who was carrying a… raccoon? She made an involuntary face at the thought of eating such a creature and wondered if that's what she'd eaten last night. Unfortunately, he very obviously noticed and his own face contorted slightly; almost as if she'd just insulted him. He looked ready to throw an insult of his own at her, but he instead headed in another direction, muttering incoherently under his breath.

Well, she was making friends left and right with these folk, wasn't she?

* * *

><p>Lyra was chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip, eyes plastered on Daryl as he tended to the fire that separated the two of them. He seemed to be purposefully ignoring her- a fact that only made her want to talk more. She wondered how she could best apologize for looking so disgusted at the prospect of eating the raccoon. Honestly, at this point, she was hungry enough to not think about it.<p>

Glenn was snoring lightly a few feet away- his hat was over his eyes and his arms were splayed out. Lyra flinched a little as she bit a little too hard on her lip and for the briefest moment Daryl looked up- surveying his surroundings. He squinted in Lyra's direction and their eyes met. Something flipped in her stomach and in a valiant attempt to cover the odd feeling, she opened her mouth to speak. Nothing came out except a small intake of breath. The man across from her looked away- back to the raccoon he was cooking and she was sure he was smirking at her. She wasn't sure she could feel more like an idiot than she did now.

* * *

><p>"I'll be ready to go tomorrow." Her voice shook just slightly at the thought of walking. Shane and Andrea had just arrived at the fire and sat down silently. Glenn looked barely awake and genuinely unhappy about where he was. Daryl was using his knife to cut up the cooked meat onto grungy looking plates. "And I uh…." She tried to think of the best way to speak to them, "….wanted to thank you guys again. For saving me, feeding me….not leaving me. I ran out of food a while ago, but when I ran out of water I knew I couldn't stay there. When I fucked up my leg, I really thought I was a goner," Oh, she was rambling like a fool.<p>

"Yeah, we saw you sunbathin' out there." Daryl said offhandedly- cracking one of the raccoon's bones as he spoke, his voice somewhat biting. If she didn't know better, she would have thought he was mad at her for having given up. And for a moment, she actually felt guilty about it.


	5. Chapter 5

((Hey guys! Thanks for reading. I'm trying to make the chapters a little bit longer. Hope you are enjoying this. :) ))

"Why the hell do you call them Walkers? Some of them…run." Lyra had a long stick in her hand, using it as a cane of sorts. Her leg still hurt like hell, but as long as she avoided putting too much weight on it, she was alright. Slow, but alright. Andrea was lagging behind for her- making sure she didn't topple over, but Lyra got the impression even she was getting sick of the speed. Shane was in the lead, large gun slung over his shoulder. Glenn was just behind him and seemed to be straying- his mind was elsewhere. Daryl was behind Lyra and Andrea, bringing up the rear. Every once and a while he would take a large breath that conveyed his annoyance better than any words could and spurred Lyra to speed up. As soon as she asked the question, Daryl cleared his throat and she glanced back at him for a second, but he wasn't looking ahead- he seemed very interested in a grouping of boulders off in the distance.

"Just what everyone calls them." Andrea replied with the smallest shrug. She seemed like she didn't want to breach the subject too much and Lyra took the hint not to ask too many questions. The five of them remained silent for quite some time. As soon as the older of the two women seemed to notice she'd been the one that killed their last conversation, she shook her head and smiled sadly at Lyra.

"So you've been holed up in a hotel this whole time?"

* * *

><p>Lyra ran into the bathroom of her hotel room and tore down the plastic shower curtain as she stuffed the stopper into the tub. She then lined the tub with the curtain and turned on the water, ecstatic that while the power was off, the water wasn't- yet. She got up from her kneeling position by the tub and stopped up the sink as she turned on the faucet as well. She filled up each cup she could find; the coffee carafe, the complimentary cups, the water bottles she'd brought with her. She didn't know what else to do now…how long would this water last?<p>

She had some food that she'd brought with her on her trip. She was the type that didn't like to go out to eat a lot when she was on business trips- it got much too expensive. Her small cooler was filled with half-melted ice and various cold cuts, bread, fruits and even half a bottle of rum. She wondered how long this would last. The meats would go bad if they weren't kept cold. The ice machine was on the other side of the floor, and she wondered if she could actually get any ice from it without power. Might as well try.

Grabbing her room key and sliding it into her back pocket, and grabbing an empty grocery bag, Lyra opened the door of her room and squinted down the darkened hall way. It was so silent and foreboding, she actually half expected the crazy killer from those Halloween movies to appear. She wondered who she would rather come face to face to- Michael or one of those undead people- as she quietly shut her door and started towards the ice machine.

"Damn it…." Lyra said, hitting the ice machine with her palm as if it would help. A little had fallen into the plastic bag when she pressed the button, but not enough to help much. She tried a few more times, even shook the giant machine. Nothing. She turned towards the stair case, trying to decide if she should try and figure out what was going on in the hotel or go back to her room and wait.

A full on attack of curiosity won out and Lyra pulled the door to the stairs open slowly. If possible, it was darker in the confined space, and markedly colder. She stood there for a few moments before finally taking the step in and letting the door close behind her.

The main level of the hotel was deserted, just like Lyra thought it would be. She wished someone would come out. The place was little and grungy, but surely they had more than one occupant. Lyra walked to the front desk and peered over the counter, then took the opportunity to look outside the doors. The sun would be rising soon- already the sky was showing a tinge of color…or maybe that was from the giant explosion. She didn't want to risk going outside, but peered around to try and get a better look and only then noticed a darkened smudge on the other side of the windowed door. She made a face as she opened the door to investigate.

Then she heard it. It was an odd noise- a gurgle of sorts. Lyra was so unprepared to deal with the noise that she gasped and let go of the door, spinning around on her heels and seeing one of the undead slowly making its way towards her. It had been a woman once; it still wore a silvery dress and stilettos. One of her arms was mangled and bloody- no doubt the cause of that smudge on the door. Lyra didn't know what to do; she felt like she'd been turned to stone. She wasn't going to go outside… but the Zombie was blocking her from the stairs. The thing wasn't going too fast, but she was an easy target. Her only weapon was a small bag of ice.

Movies didn't do gunshots justice. The shot rang out, startling Lyra so much she screamed and her hands involuntarily covered her ears. The zombie woman crumpled in front of her and Lyra was suddenly being pulled toward the stairs by a man with a giant rifle. She registered dimly that before the end of the world, being pulled around by an unknown man with a big gun was cause for concern. But she felt safer now than she had since this mess had first started.


	6. Chapter 6

**ooc: Hello! I hope you're enjoying all this! I'm starting to put together ideas (mwahahah) and I appreciate all your comments! Keep 'em comin'! :D**

* * *

><p>It was shocking to be in a group this large now. It had been strange enough being with the group of four that had rescued her. But they had arrived at the camp, and there were more. There was even a little kid. All had been surprised to see a new face, but had welcomed her…genuinely. The day was drawing to an end- Lyra was sad to see the sun starting to disappear, but she was so exhausted the subject didn't stay in her mind for too long. Her leg was throbbing something awful and when she sat down by the fire, she wasn't sure she ever wanted to move again.<p>

Watching the hubbub of those around her, Lyra had the distinct impression that this group was the equivalent of a rusty machine: loud, dangerous and destined to fail…but it still worked for now. Dinner was a quick affair. Lyra ate quietly, answering the few questions that were thrown her way and using the rest of her time to thank them once again for helping her out. She was attempting to remember each of their names. They exchanged the goings on of each group during their week long separation, of which Lyra seemed to be the most interesting piece of news, which was an odd turn of events – she ducked her head, but looked up when she heard her name; this time spoken by Daryl. Her stomach flipped ever so slightly at the inflection he used on each syllable of her name

"We were heading back when we saw her limpin' along." Had she not been embarrassed by this fact, she would have found his tone more joking than mocking and attempted to shrug it off, eyes glued on the bare-armed man that sat somewhat removed from the rest of the group- who looked mildly surprised that he'd talked in the first place.

"My Knights in Shining Armor." Lyra said with a deadpan expression, drawing a few chuckles from the group.

* * *

><p>Lyra's entire body was aching and all she wanted to do was sleep. They'd all disbanded after dinner. Andrea offered to help her set up a tent of her own tomorrow, and told her she could crash with her tonight, so there she lay- staring up at the top of the tent as it swayed ever so slightly in the wind. She could tell Andrea was still awake as well but they remained in an awkward silence until Lyra couldn't take it anymore, mumbled about needing to go pee, and attempted to climb out of the tent without making too much noise- which she failed, but eventually managed to get out of the tent and stand up tenderly- grabbing for her stick so she wasn't putting too much weight on her injured ankle.<p>

Daryl was sitting by the nearly dead fire with his giant knife in hand. He glanced up at her as she walked towards him, but didn't say anything and continued to whittle away at the stick in his hand. Lyra stood there for a moment, "Mind if I sit?" She asked and Daryl nodded his head once,

"Still a free Country, last I checked." He said under his breath, but his tone sounded a bit unwelcoming. Lyra sat though, extending her legs out in front of her and surveying what he was doing now that she was closer. She'd never been near someone who felt so closed off than he did, she wanted to speak to him- found him an interesting mystery, felt like he was sending her mixed signals as to whether or not he even acknowledged her existence.

She must have been sending vibes because Daryl finally looked up at her exasperatedly. Lyra started, shut her mouth- having been unaware it had been hanging open and looked away embarrassed. If It were any lighter, he would be able to see her flushed cheeks and mortified eyes. In any case, when she finally found the courage to glance back at him, she noticed he'd returned to his whittling with the slightest smug smile on his lips.

"You never finished that story of yours." He said, surprising Lyra.

"What?"

"Your dumbass got cornered by a Walker?" He prompted and Lyra raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. She wondered why he even bothered to ask, wondering if he was even interested.

* * *

><p>Lyra worried for a split second as they reached her hotel room that because the electricity was out, the key to the door wouldn't work. She figured that it ran off a battery though, and sure enough the door opened with a satisfying click. The man pushed in behind her and shut the door quickly, already making himself at home as he tossed a backpack onto the nearest bed and looking around the little suite.<p>

Lyra stood by the door of the room and watched him. She'd probably place him in his early thirties, his light golden hair was cut short, but a few days worth of stuble kept him from looking too clean cut. His backpack was camoflauge and the name MEYERS was stamped on the front.

"Good idea…" he said, motioning to the bathroom as he left it.

"…Thanks?" Lyra said, not sure what to say to him. Her mind was still going too fast. Should she be scared, should she be thankful? He'd just killed someone in front of her eyes. Infected…but she was still a person. Her hands, which had been clasped and resting on her chin, unclenched and she extended her hand towards him. He raised an eyebrow at her and slowly shook her hand, the awkward silence between the two of them in that moment was deafening before Lyra finally introduced herself.

"Charlie." He said shortly before hastily adding, "Have you been bitten? Have you seen any more of them?"

"No! No, no…and she was the first one…"

* * *

><p>Lyra glanced at Daryl, more than aware that she'd trailed off into silence. He was looking back at her and for the first time since she'd met him, she didn't feel like he was mocking her. He was chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully and nodded once- as if in understanding. "Dead?"<p>

"I think so."

Daryl went back to his busy work with another nod and seemed to be satisfied with her answer. Lyra felt compelled to continue.

"Hotels are good hold ups, most of the…Walkers couldn't even manage to get up to our floor. Charlie always…took care of them. He made sure I stayed in the room, though…didn't like me to leave." She'd been thinking about that fact for a while now. He'd kept her all but locked in that hotel room and she had been perfectly alright with that up until he went missing. She shrugged, mostly for herself and decided she wanted to drop the subject entirely.

"I guess I'm gonna try and sleep again." Lyra said quietly, pushing herself up tenderly, "G'night Daryl."


	7. Chapter 7

Lyra sat in the bed with her day planner opened on her lap and a pen in her mouth. She was trying to figure out what day it was. How much time had passed since the electricity had gone out, since her phone had died? Charlie had had a watch, but he'd smashed it weeks ago accidently. She looked up and watched Charlie's bare back as he inspected his gun silently. She felt like she'd known him for years now. When it's just two people and nothing else better to do, there's a lot of time to talk. Lyra wondered if she was falling in love with him sometimes…other times she wanted nothing more than to run away.

Charlie meant well by not wanting her to leave the hotel room. They had a balcony that she occasionally escaped to, but that was the extent of her exploration. She was working on this, and was sure it was only a matter of time before he let her come on his supply runs. She asked almost every day if he could reteach her how to shoot properly. She'd picked up the skill when she was a kid; her father had been an avid hunter. However, Lyra had never been too keen on this prospect and even attempted to go vegetarian in order to get her father to back off. It hadn't lasted long- Lyra was a meat eater and her father was stubborn.

"I think its Sunday." Lyra said conversationally, looking back down at her planner and marking the day. She wasn't sure, but she decided to just go ahead and go with it- it made her feel better at least. Charlie grunted in response and otherwise didn't acknowledge her, but she wasn't surprised. He usually fell silent before he went off on his "errands"- as he liked to call them.

Later that morning, the two of them poured over his book of maps. This was an almost daily ritual, and arguably the best part of her day. She liked to think that if they just got out of the city, everything would be alright. Surely there were parts close by that had life still- more than her and Charlie. On occasion, she brought up the fact that she would like to go home to Colorado, and namely to Cheyenne Mountain. She was positive that would be their best bet.

It must have barely been afternoon and Lyra's arms were wrapped around her as if she was hugging herself. It wasn't cold- in fact it was muggy, but she still felt a chill. She stood in the small hallway in front of the door as Charlie doubled checked his inventory. She'd once again attempted to tell him that he'd be better off if she came and began learning the ropes of this new world, but he wouldn't have any of it; stirring up certain feministic feelings simmering under her skin. Not wanting to start an argument, she clenched her jaw.

"Don't be angry with me," Charlie seemed to have finally noticed her sullen mood and closed the space in-between them, kissing her gently. "I'm trying to protect you Lyra." When she gave him a pointed look and shook her head he continued, "Listen….I'm going farther into the city than I have before. There's an ammunition store I used to go to. When I get back, we'll have some extra bullets for practice, OK?"

Lyra let out a disbelieving chuckle but nodded and uncurled her arms from around herself to push him towards the door, "I'll see you soon, then." She muttered.

* * *

><p>If she was counting correctly, it had been more than a month since Charlie had gone off on his errand. The first few days had been excruciating, Lyra had barely slept as she waited for him to return. After a week, she knew he must be dead or one of them by now. She was utterly alone.<p>

Her food lasted quite a while, thanks for Charlie's errands they had been able to stock up fairly well. Every day she would pour over the map as she tried to figure out what she should do. Her thoughts still lay with returning to Colorado, but how could she possibly travel from Missouri to Colorado without a weapon and with a dwindling source of food and water.

Lyra's food ran out 6 weeks after Charlie disappeared, the water situation was dire by the 7th week. Lyra wondered what her body would look like once she died in this room. How long would it be before civilization was reestablished and she was found? Her thoughts were disturbing and all consuming.

That was until she decided she didn't want to die in this fucking room.

* * *

><p>"Who knew I'd be so damn good at laundry," Lyra said monotonously as she sat by the small stream, bending over slightly into the bucket that contained about a dozen articles of clothing. Carol sat next to her and laughed lightly.<p>

"I suppose that's a good thing," she replied quietly as she went about her own pile of soiled clothes. She was a quiet, frail looking woman. Her skin was nearly grey and patchy and she seemed to be wasting away before everyone's very eyes. Lyra had been filled in within a day of her arrival what had happened just a few weeks before she'd joined the posse. According to Glenn though, Carol was looking better than she had…which was saying something.

Lori joined the two of them a little while later, and was just the person Lyra had wanted to talk to. Earlier in the week, Lyra had pulled Rick aside and told him of her desire to make her way to Cheyenne Mountain. While he'd seemed somewhat nervous about the prospect, he had conceded that it was at least a plan to ponder over. Lori seemed to sense Lyra's question before she ever asked it and nipped it at the bud, "It's a possibility, but…" she trailed off and Lyra got the impression the conversation was useless at this point.

Lyra shrugged nonchalantly, using the excuse that her clothes were ready to be hung in order to escape the two older women and cover the short distance back to the camp. Dale was perched on top of his motorhome; Glenn and Andrea were tending the fire and conversing while Carl wrote in a book close by. Shane and Daryl had gone their separate ways in order to hunt days ago and Rick was off somewhere or another. It was surprising how quick she'd integrated into the group in the last few weeks, she nearly felt a part of this damaged family by now. She would go where they went now, of course, no matter what.

Even as she began to hang the wet clothing on the line, Lyra looked up when Dale shifted on the Winnebago, her stomach flipped uncomfortably. It was probably nothing, but everyone always tensed when the look-out spotted something. She relaxed when he didn't sound an alarm and looked over in the general direction.

It was Daryl, adorned with a few squirrels and a rabbit. His crossbow slung over his back. "He's not alone…" Dale said. Lyra cocked her head to the side when she heard the confusion in his voice, But then she saw the newcomer and her flipping stomach suddenly dropped.

"Look what I found," Daryl spoke to those at the camp at large; dry and unreadable. Lyra hadn't even heard him: her entire world was focused on Charlie's grubby, worn face.


End file.
